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Life is made up of chance encounters. Words spoken and overheard. Suggestions and ideas bought to life in unexpected ways, this is one of those that has shaped my life.

Recently someone mentioned to me that they thought I had two personalities. This shocked me at first, initially that someone could read me so easily and secondly because I knew it was true. It always has been. I haven’t thought about this in a long time but this simple little moment jolted me back and has had my mind spinning for days now.

I remember the first time that I could shape my personality. My obsession with the word ‘Sponge’ had gotten a little out of hand. As it was due too. I was a teenager and my emotions were wildly out of place and out of sync. My friend Gold told me that she never understood the ‘Sponge thing’ but that she thought it was kind of like my alter ego. I realised she was right. I had an avatar, a name, a signature, everything except the words to shape it and give life to my own personality. The name was the important thing. Things started to click into place. I did, and still do sign my name as Sponge, funnily enough no-one has ever noticed or mentioned this strange habit.

I understand now, the power in giving something a name. It makes it real, makes it solid and allows the thing life and growth.

Over the years as I’ve figured out who I am, who I want to be and come to terms with my good and bad points my character has shaped itself into 2 distinct people. Sponge – the ‘dark’ side, and now – given a name – The Juggler. A handle I have used when writing and the self that traveled through India and used juggling as a way to interact on a new level.

It’s strange to think about your own self as 2 distinct people. You sometimes loose a lot of inhibitions – you can say it wasn’t ‘You’, you justify things to yourself with the knowledge that – whatever your doing, however your acting isn’t who you really are, its the shell of a person that you have consciously created to contain all those things that you can not control but despise in your own actions.
Those times when you are vengeful and petty – that’s Sponge. When your arrogant and controlling, bossy, rude, racist. It’s not who I am, I know I have many good qualities but to keep them on the surface you need to embrace the bad. For me this happens in allowing those bad qualities to have a name and to accept that they are part of who you are, even if that part is almost a completely different person….

A short history of Earth and the creation of Life In the land before men ruled the earth and the birds ruled the sky a light could always be seen on the horizon of the northern sky. The light wsa a beauty so great and wonderous that when men finally came to be the beauty lived on and would reach the far corners of hte earth, to live in stories, legends and myths. The power was so great it compelled even the most noble of men to take up a journey that would last many years on foot and the feet of great and noble beasts to travel and look upon the beauty that was so simple and clear that the blind could see if only for the time they looked upon it. The first men that travelled to look upon thebeauty found a simple white daisy waving gently in the wind, its petals slightly pink as if it was dawn. Upon the ground the daisy lay and so great was its power that all the land for miles to see was rich and fertille. The men settled in the lands below the hill and soon the daisybecame known as the beauty of Camoore for that was the name of the men that had first settled in this part ofthe untouched earth. For many centuries men would come to look upon the daisy and find it guarded by many of the Camooreish people for it had given them life beyond that of many other mortal men. Then one day the land cracked and the seas rose, the earth was shook and in one fatal instance all was lost for te daisy fell deep into a dark abiss to lost forever. Soon the lands dried and the soil became brittle. The yield from the earth became so little that soon the Camoore began to die out and with a final push of life they left to settle on other parts of the earth and be lost into the history books. Many centuries later when the earth had been split and the continents moved, seas had widened and now ruled the greater part of what had been the old earth was washed away under the sea. A child wandered to a stream and began to fish for the stream was good at this time of year, but of chance there lay the daisy its beauty bright even in the glare of the summer light. The child picked the daisy from the bank of the river and looked up to see a woman in odd clothing looking down at him. The child turned to run but was stuck by a sudden power and curiosity. The lady was very young and very beautiful and she bent low gracefully and picked the daisy from the ground for it had falen when the child had turned. The yuong lady handed the daisy to the child and wispered softly. “Take her merlin, take Excalibur and use the power, do not be afraid” and then she was gone, the daisy with her. But there in his hand lay a minature golden flower. Many years past untill the coming of Arthur and the magic of Excalibur was finally realised for untill then the Wizard Merlin had been but a cheap conjourer using the magic of the daisy for cheap party tricks. Then one day the daisy was lost and the only power Merlin had was that of Lust, the lust and love of the beautiful daisy kept him stronger and younger than any other. Then years later the daisy was presented to the new king and Arthur feeling the power of the daisy in his mind named her excalibur and there forth burst a light so bright that all the men even the great wizard Merlin had to shield thier eyes and there the daisy had turned once more into the sword Excalibur that is subject to many myths and legends oftimes gone by. The truth of the story goes as follows, the sword reaked such power that soon it was broken by a powerful hand, shattered into 7 pieces and then with the magic of Merlin was cast across the lands of time and lost forever. Merlin felt the pull of the sword as he shattered it and with the sword he was shattered to and then pulled back across time and space but linked inexorably to the sword. Merlin began to seek the sword with the intent to return her to her original form and once again weild the power. Merlin lived across many generations of men searching for the sword, so many generations infact that his name wore thin and new names had to be found, Merlin took on many names other many generations untill he found himself searching the 21st century and stumbling thru time with no real purpose or life except the sword. Merlin’s life had been changed so much that he was soon lost in space where he was sucked thru a black hole and thrown back millions of years where he exploded into millions of particals to break away and form planets and stars and meteors all wizzing thru space. The particals that held the most conscious thought soon found there way to the newly created earth where life had not yet began. Claiming this as his own the new God was to be ofund in the form of Adam ruling the lonely Earth and wandering from place to place. It happened that one day Adam found a single flower in the shape common to a lone daisy, with his touch the ground exploded and there lay the garden he named Eden and where the

Sometimes in this job you have to wrap it all up and hide the emotions behind the smile. Some break….

I don’t even know if/when im coming home. How do I know im ready – I’m pretty certain I know whats waiting for me back in the UK and if I left once then whats to stop me, lets face it – if it wasnt enough before then it definitely won’t be enough if I go back after experiencing a different life.

So the road is long and winding, and that’s life. The direction you take is yours to make. When the path ends, well that’s yours aswell. Once you leave the road life’s a cul-de-sac, a roundabout. It doesn’t change.

I finished at work on the 19th of June 2009, my last day there in my current job. The weekend was spent with my girlfriend, Flo. I love her so much right now. My landlord came to do an inspection on my Flat 22nd June, told me my rent hadn’t been paid in 2 months and wanted a cheque from me before she left. I argued that if this was the case I should have been told long beforehand surely? Apparently her accountant had not realised. Well, I don’t have a cheque book, I don’t appreciate you asking me to then draw out cash and finally to borrow from a friend. No this will never happen. Especially considering that you have failed to have my gas safety checked in months. Don’t try to bullshit and harrangue me with the fact that the flat belongs to a charity. You WORK for the charity, you get paid wages, so do your bosses, your cleaners, your new offices. Everything. I understand how charities work and how big the operations really are, how much of the money raised by those gullible enough to give really goes to those it is designed to help. Don’t come preaching in my home!!!

Long story short, she’s kept my deposit and expects me to pay the balance at the end of this month. Last call, I asked her to confirm this to me in writing and have yet to recieve any response.

I left my Flat on the day of my flight, the place was finally empty, I’d sold my last fridge via Gumtree, at the same cost that I had brought it for and I guess it was time to start another adventure and to see a little of the world once more. To challenge myself and to grow.

It’s a little upsetting, giving something up that you have worked so hard for, packing a few bags and leaving the rest behind. Realising that finally, you have nothing left. Only the bags on your back and the memories in your heart. I shut the door, gave the keys to the shop below, walked away. I didnt look back, I got myself a coffee and a sandwhich in my favourite cafe. Saying a silent goodbye and hoping to once more be in a position to live in a place I am happy and love. I cried silent tears as I waited for the bus and sat bleary eyed as I travelled a short distance to say farwell to a good friend and then walked further to my parents house where I sat out the rest of the day and then onto the airport. Bags checked in, security – Finally – passed. Then the waiting game. Facebook, a real book, a sandwhich and the plane was ready to board.

I don’t know if I realised the significance of those actions until a while after I was on the plane. My stomach dropped as we lifted of, inside I think its true to say I was terrified of this step. I don’t think it was just the affect of the take off that had hit my stomach so strongly, it was the compilation of everything and the nagging doubt that still haunts me today. I’ve pulled apart my supports and let the world I had so carefully contructed to block all of my dangers and worries, to settle cossily inside my private domain. To come crashing down around my ears. Everything was over and I had taken those fateful steps that have so far led me down an unknown and largely, unappreciated path.

The flight was relatively short and before I knew it I was being awoken by a blinking seatbelt light. “Please fasten your seatbelt, we are about to begin our decent into Dubai airport”. The message was being announced by our pilot and again my stomach seems to of descended a lot quicker than that of our plane.

I spent the next week in Fujairah with a good friend of mine. Melting from the sweat and generally being oblivious to my surroundings. Soaking up the atmosphere and having a nice time. Enjoying the friendship of thsoe I had met before and those who were new. Being instantly accepted into a community I was not readily off, it was fun, it was nice and it felt happy.

Goodbyes are never a nice thing, again this one was more so unpleasant for without the support of my friends I would of been broken from unspeakable sadness, regret and the fear of loss. I was, and still am. In denial of the steps I have taken. The path I am walking down doesn’t have any signposts and there’s definitely no light at the end of the tunnel. Only my determination to be better, stronger and more secure is keeping me going, for my feet will surely stumble on this dark and uneven path. I am not led by god or believe as many would be, instead this comes from inside to prove to myself that I am me. Maybe also to reflect the slight arrogance thats clearly part of my being, slightly better. Just to rise above the lip of the wave and to have the strength and determination to ride the ripcurl to a different land, a different destiny, a new beach and finally. Warmer climates. Obviously a metaphor in Australian winter.

I understand a little better now how those who come to London, many my friends, struggle through a foreign and often harsh, lonely winter to come out on the other side. I think I can connect a little better with them on terms of empathy to what they must have, and still do experience. For those of you who know me and know what I am talking about. I respect and love you all more now than I have ever done before. With you in my mind I will fight this winter and explore this land. Onwards and Upwards.

My first day in Melbourne is going to be spent getting my feet and my bank account sorted out. For the love of God I hope sincerely this does not become a lifestyle. I will hopefully avoid the necessities that are inherent in this by not taking on those little reflections of a true citizen, you understand. Local sim cards, bank accounts, jobs and friends with the local school headmaster.

Today is a new day, it is early and there is much to do. Today is the beginning, today…

Whilst I am still very much mellowing in my melancholy moment of madness I have decided to find something to make me smile. A quick google search for “funny email correspondence” brought me to this result. Now, instead of making me laugh it brought forth the feeling’s I consistently have about “people” as a whole. Slightly ignorant, racist and of course cocky, some think they are funny. Others direct their stupidity towards those, whose only concern is to try and help resolve the situation.

In the link we see an email directed towards a police station in the UK. The complaint being that it is very difficult to get through to someone on the phone and the complainee, let’s call him fuckwad to keep his privacy and well being at their uttermost. So Mr Fuckwad decides to email a police station to complain that a bunch of kids or teenagers are playing ball against a fence outside his home. He describes the youths as “walking abortions” and you can already tell he’s the kind of old, grumpy, self serving, self centered, unrealistic, stuck up twat that writes to his local newspaper on a weekly basis to discuss the decline of this country. He probably fought in a war that ended 10 years before he was born, and his sister is friends with the queen.

After a lengthy rant about a simple matter he ends with what can only be considered a rude and peremptory closing of the email.

Here’s where I’ll quote you the professional and polite, also helpful email from his local PC.

“Mr Fuckwad,

I have read your e-mail and understand your frustration at the problems caused by youth playing in the area and the problems you have encountered in trying to contact the police.

As the Community Beat Officer for your street I would like to extend an offer of discussing the matter fully with you.

Should you wish to discuss the matter, please provide contact details (address / telephone number) and when may be suitable.

Regards

PC ???

?????????????

Community Beat Officer”

Let’s dissect the email. First line, a polite greeting to Mr Fuckwad. The hero of this particular story. The second line and indeed first paragraph begins and ends nicely clearly underlining the issues that were raised in the original complaint and reiterating that the responding PC has taken the trouble to read the dribble coming from Mr F’s mouth as he salivates onto his computer keyboard whilst touching his sister. Ok that bit didn’t happen but he might as well be some inbred hick by the pleasure he takes at his inconsistent and obtuse email where he is clearly attempting some form of humorous writing.
The second paragraph in the response introduces the respondent as the local PCSO. Ok so the email is being responded to by the correct person, someone who understands the complaint and also understands the area and the person he is responding to. Our responding PCSO finishes by simply offering to contact the emailing Mr Fuckwad at a convenient time via the telephone to arrange a face to face meeting where they can discuss the matters that have been brought up and hopefully resolve the issues satisfactory.
So, instead of acknowledging the very polite response and arranging a suitable time to have a much closer and personal resolution to the initial, very minor issue. Mr Fuckwad decides that he is too clever for this simple PCSO and will respond with scorn and sarcasm. I wonder why he has such a bad life and consistently fails to achieve. Karma’s a bitch.

P.s I’m lying in bed typing this by candle light whilst drinking chocolate horlicks. It seems to be a killer equation and only time will tell if it has any exceptions.

There’s always been one equation that I thought was 100% foolproof and not affected by any exceptions. Unfortunately I believe that right now that equation is being stretched to it’s limit and if the exception is not enforced then it will break. This could mean the end of civilisation as we know it.

The equation in question being:

Me + Cheese = Happiness

My unusual melancholy is forcing me to sit and stare out the window, a Wednesday evening and the whole day has slipped by me without even the notice of a pigeon to inspire me to smile. Sure there has been some good, no day is ever 100% bad but right now I feel very stuck in a melancholy mood and as such I’m rather grouchy and tired. I don’t feel like smiling, sleeping or any of the other things that would normally make me feel better. Instead I’m very tempted to wallow in self pity, I could put on some bad music and sulk, eat chocolate and smoke cigars. No. I will not of course, those times are over. How I ever got so low who knows, right now I have so many things to look forward to and enough strength to keep pushing forward against all the walls that block my path.

I remember those times actually, not greatly but I remember. I think I may have written of them several months ago, when they were still fresh and apparent. When I would open a bottle of wine, a big bar of Cadbury’s double chocolate, a packet of cigars and some loud music. Feeling sorry for myself and in affect punishing my body. Even now though I do not lament those times 100%. There has been some good. I made many friends I would otherwise have not, and in some small part I hope we have helped each other through the darkness of winter.

For now, I need a new equation because I can’t hit rock bottom. I need something solid to hold onto, something to know doesn’t change. I love cheese but it’s just not cutting it right now….